Dear Judy

I am a seventeen year old boy who have had a very difficult time the past tree years. I have tried to kill myself several times, and I am writing this letter, hoping that it may help other teenagers with the same problems that I have had.

I was actually a quite normal teenager before all my problems started. I had good friends, and I was quite good at school to.

My father was working as a truck-driver for a big firm, when he was involved in a traffic-accident. He was driving the truck when a lady with a baby drove straight into him with her car. Both, the woman and the baby, died at the scene. My father was found not guilty in court, but he took it really hard and kept finding things that made him guilty. He quit going to work, and he started drinking a lot.

I was fourteen years old then, and I had a lot to do at school. But my mum was working a lot, and I had to take care of my younger brother, so I didn’t get much time to do my homework. I also lost many of my friends after a while, so I didn’t have anyone to talk to about what was going on at home.

Once my father came home late at night. He was drunk and my mother was really worried. When she asked him where he had been, he went berserk. He started throwing and breaking things. And for the first time ever, he hit my mum. He hit her a lot, and she got all red in her whole face. Then he left her there, lying on the floor, crying, as he went to bed. After this, he kept hitting us both all the time. When I came to school I had to make up all kinds of excuses why I had big scars all over my body.

This became a living hell for me, and it resulted in me trying to kill myself. I was sitting on my bed one night with a lot of pills in my hand. I started swallowing, one by one, and then I went to sleep. When I woke up the next morning, I was very supperised that I actually woke up again. But I got back to my self again after a while. I was really sick, and I had to throw up several times.

A few days later, I did it again. This time I cut one of my arteries. I passed out, and the next thing I remember was that I was at the hospital. I remember that my mum, my dad, who for once was sober, and some of my old best friends were standing beside my bed.

I first talked talked alone to my mother. She told me that my father had got really upset when he heard what had happened. He had promised that he would go to AA-meetings, and that he would try to make things better.

I don’t think I believed my father then, but he has been sober now for almost a year, and it is going really well at home. I am also doing well at school and with my friends.

If you are so depressed that you are thinking about killing yourself, try to talk to someone about your problems. That can sometimes help you so much that you even change your mind. I have now learned always to look at the bright side of life, and I can find pleasure in all the little things that happen. And remember, there is always someone out there that cares about you.